Studious Intent
by arethusa85
Summary: Distressed by a broken mirror and the latest damsel in distress, Rose stumbles upon a study where the Doctor has been retreating between adventures. Prequel to Choices We Made. Post Girl in the Fireplace, Rose/Tenth Doctor pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**Character/Pairing:** Ten/Rose  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.  
**Spoilers:** Through _Girl in the Fireplace_.

* * *

It was several hours since the Doctor had stumbled back into the spaceship and, without even a curt explanation, sent the TARDIS into the vortex and his companions to their respective beds.

Rose spent most of that time taking a very very long shower, for which the TARDIS willingly supplied plenty of scalding hot water. Stepping out into the slightly damp and steaming room, she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and peered into the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were still slightly puffy from the tears that she hadn't been able to contain.

When she had stepped inside her room the tumult of confusion and hurt had overwhelmed her. He had left her behind. Done what he always did, saving the world or attractive damsel as it were. He was fantastic at finding those. But five and a half hours had been plenty of time for Rose to worry that this might be it. The time when everything wouldn't turn out all right. He'd come back, but she was certain he hadn't expected it to be so easy.

And he'd wanted to bring Reinette along. She could see it in the way he'd rushed back. Eager to have someone new to amaze with his ship that was bigger on the inside and all the places it could go. Ever since Sarah Jane, Rose had wondered if he saw her in the same light. Just someone to impress. She'd become accustomed to his ways and now he needed more companions to make up for it. It was selfish, but she wanted to be as special to him as he was to her. Maybe that really was impossible.

Rose found a pair of soft flannel pajamas waiting on her bed and she was grateful for the comforting warmth. But she needed something to calm her nerves if she was ever going to sleep. Finding a pink robe in the closet, she put it on and entered the hallway outside her room. She trusted the TARDIS to help her find what she needed. Possibly the kitchen or maybe that garden with the apple grass and babbling brook. What she found was a small study that looked like it had been transported from some manor house. There was a velvet sofa in the center of the room and...

Apparently, the ship had misunderstood. Two feet with mismatched socks rested on the arm of the sofa and she knew exactly who they belonged to. But the Doctor didn't acknowledge her presence, deeply lost within the pattern of his own thoughts. He was missing his suit jacket and she noticed it lying crumpled in a far corner, carelessly tossed aside. His long frame just fit on the sofa and she briefly wondered if it was that size on purpose.

She hadn't caught him brooding since before he changed, but she couldn't think of a more apt explanation for his crossed arms and distant expression. She had thought he'd forgone the habit for brief bursts of reticence, but perhaps she simply hadn't caught him at it. She wanted to interrupt like she used to, distract him from wherever his thoughts had led, but feared the intervention would be unwelcome. If he was hiding himself away, then he certainly wasn't looking for her aid. She looked up to study his face in more detail. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were dark and...now entirely focused on her.

"Rose. How...how long have you been standing there?" He looked nervous and just as startled to find her in the room as she had been to discover him.

"Doctor! Sorry. Didn't know you were here. There. On the sofa. I couldn't sleep and...I'll just go..." She stopped, hand hovering in midair. "The door's gone."

The Doctor shifted, unfolding his arms. "Gone?"

"Yeah. S'just...gone."

She heard him muttering something unintelligible which she hoped was directed at the ship. The lights dimmed.

"Somethin' wrong with the TARDIS?" Rose asked, picking at the sleeve of her robe as she lingered nervously where the door used to be.

"Yes," he said giving the ceiling a glare. "No. I mean, no. Absolutely no idea why the door's gone. None whatsoever."

"Can you get it back?"

"Um..." His gaze wandered the room. "It's a temporary malfunction. Easy to fix, usually. But, this isn't...well, this room is cut off from everything. Meant to be that way, really."

"So you can't fix it?"

"Oh. I'm sure it'll reassert itself."

"When?"

"Hmm?"

"When will it be back."

"In a bit." He returned his attention to her. "You said you couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah." Rose took a step into the room, taking in the crowded bookshelves and crackling fire. "Never seen this room before. S'cozy."

"It's new. Well, newish."

"This where you disappear to?"

"Sorry?"

"You used to tinker. Be gone for hours." She ran a finger over several book spines. "But I could always find you."

He frowned and tilted his head. "Have you not been able to?"

She spun to face him. "'Course I haven't! Wouldn't of tonight either, if I hadn't accidently opened the wrong door." Realizing how harsh her outburst sounded, she backtracked. "Not that I was lookin' for you. Tonight, that is. Made it clear you wanted to be alone."

"Which door did you think it was?" he asked calmly, raising himself up to a seated position.

"Um, the one that led to the garden."

"That's exactly how I found it! Aimed for the conservatory, but voila! Ended up here." When his enthusiasm failed to improve her mood, he added softly, "Rose, I didn't know this room was so hard to find."

Rose sniffed and readjusted the closure of her robe. "Right. I'll be out of your way, soon as that door appears. Sure there isn't some way to get it?"

"None." He slid over on the couch and patted the plush seat. "Come here. Plenty of room for two."


	2. Chapter 2

**Character/Pairing:** Ten/Rose  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.  
**Spoilers:** Through _Girl in the Fireplace_.

* * *

She hesitated, worrying her lip and glancing back at the space where the door had been. If she could get him to babble for just one more minute...

"It's going to be awhile, Rose."

Turning back, she found him watching her with mild amusement. She slowly approached the sofa and sat gingerly as far away from him as possible. The smile slipped from his face and a crease spread across his brow.

"You all right?"

"M'fine. Really," she assured him, with a tight smile. "S'nothin."

"You've been crying," he murmured, lightly brushing fingers across her cheek.

She immediately jerked away from his touch and inhaled sharply. "No, I haven't."

His hand remained frozen in position for a moment, before he drew it back to fiddle with his hair. "I...I thought you'd stopped looking for me. I mean, new new me. Not exactly the same. Different." He sighed. "And then Mickey came along and well..."

"You think I'm still with Mickey?" Rose interrupted. "Seriously? With Mickey?"

"Aren't you?" he asked with a hint of vulnerability.

"No wonder you're runnin' off with strumpets," she muttered.

"Strumpets?" he asked, his tone indulgent. "Rose, have you been perusing the early literature section again?"

"Not as much as you've been learnin' French."

He instantly stiffened. Rose ducked her head and watched his hands as they tightly gripped the edge of the sofa. No matter how many times he insisted they were manly, she thought they were more on the delicate side. She wondered if Reinette had noticed.

"I have inot/i been learning French," the Doctor said carefully. "I'm already familiar with a variety of dialects."

"Bet you're familiar with plenty else that's French."

"Well...enough to get by. I should probably brush up on monetary variances and garden layouts. Never know when you might get stuck in a labyrinth of hedges." His tone remained light, but Rose knew he was well aware of the insinuations threading their conversation.

"How long were you there?"

"Couple hours. Although, most of that was spent dancing not..."

"Dancing!"

"Couldn't get out of it. Believe me, I tried. I'm rubbish at dances from that period. All that prancing about in heeled shoes. Ever try completing a successful minuet in chucks?" He grimaced and flexed his feet. "Not easy."

"Learned some new moves, then?"

"What?"

"Thought you didn't dance," she explained, smoothing her robe.

"Might've lost my head if I didn't. Refusing to dance is a serious offense. Especially when the one asking is the King's mistress."

"Yeah. 'Cause you're very particular 'bout your partners."

"What's that suppose to mean?" he asked, finally sounding cross.

"Nothin'. Just..."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter."

She heard him take a deep breath and wondered if he was counting to ten. Knowing that overly large brain of his, it was probably closer to a million.

"Rose..." he began sincerely. "There's nothing to be jealous of."

"I'm not...!" she spurted, stopping when she realized the outburst was only confirming his assumption.

"It's all right," he said, patting her shoulder a little awkwardly. "Very human of you. But you really don't need..."

"Human of me?" Rose got to her feet and stumbled away from the sofa. "'Cause that's how you've always seen me, isn't it? Just a stupid human."

"You know that's not true," he said, shaking his head. "You're really not with Mickey?"

"No! Haven't been for ages. Since before you changed, even. God, you never listen! He's got a girl. Works at the chippy." She clenched her hands into tight fists and snapped, "And what am I suppose to think? Obviously m'just the next in a long line of companions you keep 'round so you can feel impressive."

His face was inscrutable as he stood, dark eyes never straying from her face. Rose met his gaze defiantly, waiting for the outburst that had to be lurking beneath his apparent calm.

"We should go for chips," he commented mildly, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he ambled towards her. "Haven't done that in...oh, much too long. That was our first date."

"What?" she mumbled, retreating until she could feel the leather covered books against her palms.

"Chips," he affirmed, close enough now to reach for her hands.

Chips would mean London. "You sendin' me home?" she asked, voice quavering no matter how desperately she tried to appear unruffled.

Startled, he tightened his grip on her hands. "Why would I..." he started, eyebrows quirking oddly. "How could I..." He drew her hands to his chest and Rose found herself leaning forward involuntarily. "How can you not..._know_?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Character/Pairing:** Ten/Rose  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.  
**Spoilers:** Through _Girl in the Fireplace_.

* * *

"Know?" She watched him carefully, doubting the sincerity of his expression. "Know what, Doctor?"

"How much you mean to me."

"You've got a strange way of showin' it," she retorted, pulling her hands out his grasp. "Tossin' me aside like that."

His hands fell limply to his side. "Rose, nothing happened. Nothing." He took a deep breath. "I had to save her."

"That what you're going to say every time?"

"Sometimes I have to do things. You know that," he spat back.

"You didn't think you'd find a way back. Could've been a lot longer than five and a half hours, yeah?"

"I would have found a way, Rose. Even if it had to be the slow path." He reached up and brushed aside a strand of her hair, still crinkly from her earlier hairstyle. He added quietly, "I thought you trusted me."

"I did, until..."

His hand fell to rest beside her head against the bookcase. "Until what, Rose? Until I changed?" he asked bitterly, lips curling into a grimace. "I thought you'd gotten past that."

"I did! It's just..." She looked down at the plush carpet and absently toed a circle with her slipper. "Since it happened, you've pushed me away. I thought, when we went to New Earth, that things were goin' forward."

"Rose..."

"Don't 'Rose' me!" Rose met his gaze defiantly. "S'not going to work. God...Why'd the TARDIS have to lock us in here?"

The Doctor ran his free hand through his hair and then placed it on the other side of her head. "Well...She can be a bit impatient. And we've been _dancing_ around this for a substantial period of time really."

"This?" Rose squeaked, noticing that the Doctor was near enough that she could make out his freckles.

"Yes," he confirmed, closing the distance before she could even consider escaping.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt the gentle pressure of lips brushing tentatively against hers. The Doctor was kissing her. Actually kissing her. She stiffened at the unexpected development and the Doctor, noticing her discomfort, withdrew.

It contradicted everything he had ever expressed about relationships. Except for that one conversation about dancing so long ago now that it hardly counted. His teasing and flirting had always been just that. They were best friends, a team, the Doctor and Rose. But never like this.

"You don't...you don't do this." She shook her head slowly. "Least not w'me."

"Not with..." he started, looking entirely perplexed. "Rose, I don't do this with anyone."

"What changed? Can't be just 'cause you finally accepted m'not with Mickey."

"No. It's not," he said carefully.

"What then?" Rose insisted. "Better not be 'cause you lost her. M'not gonna be a replacement."

"Replacement? _Replacement?_" He laughed. "Honestly, how could you be?"

"Right, 'cause she was everythin' I'm not."

"Exactly." He beamed.

Rose punched his shoulder. Hard.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You kissed me!"

"Right." The Doctor took a step back, rubbing his shoulder as he squinted at her. "That's not the usual response, is it? I mean, I am terribly out of practice and really not altogether familiar with these types of situations. But, I was looking...no, hoping for something a little more positive. Of course, if it's the fashion to affirmatively answer like that than I'm very much in favor of it. The positive answer, that is. Not the punching. Or any slapping you might be planning." Pausing, he observed her clenched fists. "Are you planning any slapping?" He sounded naturally curious, but was leaning backwards preemptively.

"You just told me that blonde tart was better'n me!"

"What? What?!" he sputtered. "That's not what I said. She's the opposite of you. Complete opposite."

"Better'n me, you mean."

"No, no, no, no, no, no! Not better at all. Different. She was different."

"Good different or bad different, Doctor?"

"Just dif--" He stopped as he realized he'd been effectively cornered. "Oh, that's not playing fair, Rose Tyler!"

"You kissed me, then told me another woman was everythin' I'm not. I don't think I hafta play fair," Rose remarked haughtily.

"She _was_ everything you're not," the Doctor insisted. "Everything I like about you, she was missing."

Instead of being pleased at his clarification, Rose narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him from head to toe. Then she firmly pressed a hand against his forehead.

The Doctor glanced up at her hand and then back at her in confusion. "Rose. What are you doing?"

"Checkin' for a fever. Obviously you're sick or...or...possessed!" She swiftly withdrew her hand. "S'like when Cassandra messed with our heads. Must've been something on that ship."

"I am not sick, Rose. Or possessed."

"'Course you're going to say that," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "If you are possessed you're not exactly gonna admit to it. Except, you sound like the Doctor. Even if you're sayin' stuff he never would." She sighed resignedly. "Gotta be a dream, then."

One eyebrow raised, the Doctor reached down and pinched her arm resulting in a very undignified yelp.

"Not a dream," he verified with a soft smile.

"So, you're not possessed or sick an' this isn't a dream." She shifted her gaze away from him and fiddled with a button on her pajama top. "Pining after any French?"

"Well...Juliette Binoche, but who isn't, eh?"

"Not a lack of bananas?"

"Never." He pursed his lips and studied the ceiling for a moment. "Actually, I have no idea what would happen if that were the case. You should hide all the bananas at some point so we can find out."

"You've got emergency supplies m'sure," Rose pointed out, the edge of her mouth twitching in contained amusement.

"Those would run out eventually," the Doctor assured her. "However if I was delirious, I'd probably be kissing Mickey. Blech." He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Rose giggled and then caught herself, biting her lip and shyly observing him from beneath her eyelashes. "I dunno if I'm convinced you're in your right mind."

"Well, we can't have that." He let out an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose I'll just have to persuade you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Character/Pairing:** Ten/Rose  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.  
**Spoilers:** Through _Girl in the Fireplace_.

* * *

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yes." The Doctor cocked his head, gaze intense and lingering. "Now, where to start."

He shifted his inspection to the room in general and Rose released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Being trapped in this study really does have a few disadvantages. Can't exhibit my magnificent piloting skills. No impending doom to save you from. Or that requires running. No tea and biscuits."

"Tea?"

"Tea_ is_ very persuasive. Especially with biscuits. Chocolate ones."

"I'll remember that."

"You should. Never know when you might have to bribe a..."

"...Time Lord?" she interrupted, knowing full well that the TARDIS kept the biscuit supply hidden from the Doctor.

"I certainly wouldn't say no," he agreed with the soft grin reserved just for her.

There was a moment of silence, conversation suddenly insufficient for the situation. Their eyes met and they both froze at the thrilling spark that passed between them. Usually this was their cue to turn away and seek distraction. But now there was nowhere to run.

With only slight hesitation, the Doctor stepped forward, tilting his head and letting his lips graze hers with the faintest of pressure, allowing her an opportunity to step away. But she remained stationary before him, savoring even this gentlest form of contact. He slowly wet his lips and then returned. Pressing harder this time, confidence growing as she encouraged him. He traced the fullness of her bottom lip with his tongue, coaxing her to deepen the kiss and she opened to his entreaty with a sigh. He immediately commenced a thorough sampling, eagerly swiping along her tongue and the arch of her mouth. He could distinguish the chemical tang of cherry lip balm, happiness and for some reason a bold sunny afternoon. Reluctantly, he pulled away, giving her a chance to offset a temporary oxygen deficiency. "Will that do?"

All Rose could manage was a breathless, "What?"

She felt his lips curl into a smirk just beneath her jaw. "Persuasion," he murmured, brushing kisses along the length of her neck. "Remember? Me, having to persuade you."

"Oh." She trailed her hands up his sides, giving herself a chance to regain her composure. She felt the Doctor draw in a ragged breath against her collarbone as her hands tangled in his hair. He mirrored her, hands slipping into blonde strands, fingers resting just above her ears. She felt a flash of color, deep red, and then a tingling euphoria as though they were already...

Rose gasped and the sensation abruptly vanished as the Doctor released her, practically stumbling over his own feet as he backed away.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have...reflex."

"What was that?"

"It's just...well..." He tangled both hands in his hair, tugging anxiously on the strands before stating, "I'm not human."

"I hadn't noticed," Rose commented dryly.

The Doctor, in fact, noticed that Rose looked rather impatient. During his brief fumble, he had developed retorts to several possible reactions she might have. Impatience was unexpected. He hadn't even started to explain and yet she looked like she already understood. He briefly glimpsed at her slippered feet. Not tapping. Yet.

"It's not the same for me. This," he began, gesturing between them.

"Okay," Rose said slowly, eyebrow arching in disbelief. In truth, she was almost certain it was a ploy to escape before they really started.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he murmured, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers and studying the carpet. "I just assumed you'd let me and I should have asked you first. I didn't think. We haven't even really talked about...I mean, it's instinct for me and..." He drew out his hands, motioning in an attempt to add clarity to his babbling. "We don't have to...rush things. We can take it slow. Slow is good. Very good. Lots of things are good that are slow. Turtles! Turtles are amazing, Rose. And..."

Rose caught his hands mid-gesture and he quieted, waiting for her response.

"I want to do this," she assured him, softly. "Have for ages. Whatever it is, just explain it to me."

He pursed his lips and then nodded, leading her to the couch with a gentle tug of her hands. They sat beside each other, knees touching, hands intertwined.

"My people, we didn't do this sort of thing. Hadn't done in a long time. We didn't lust like you humans do, as a rule. Longer life span. And we were trained to avoid emotions; control them. The looms took care of procreation." He shook his head. "I shouldn't feel this way, Rose. About you."

"But you do?" she pressed.

"Yes," he admitted without hesitation. He raised his free hand to cup her cheek. "Oh, I crave you. I shouldn't, but I do." His hand drifted to her waist, thumb absently stroking the skin just above her pajama bottoms. "Even before the looms, there were rules. Relationships were arranged for the betterment of the community. Carefully chosen. In my time, on very very very rare occasions, the bonding vows and ceremony were still performed. Those who partook were considered more than a little eccentric. Still, not to be taken lightly. We mate for all our lives. Have to, really, because of the telepathic connection involved." He shifted uncomfortably and let go of her waist to rub the back of his neck. "Thing is, I need a bit of connection in order to...well, perform as it were."

"Oh." Finally she looked surprised, eyes darting briefly downwards before she caught herself. "You mean we can't...?"

"We can't bond properly. You're not telepathic. But I can make a connection between us. It should work." He nodded and corrected himself. "Will work. It's instinct more than anything." He tried to smile, but his forehead was creased with worry. "If you let me, that is."

"Yes."

"What?" The Doctor almost tumbled off the sofa at her quick response. He caught himself just in time, but he remained bewildered. "Really? You were pretty upset when you found out the TARDIS was in your head."

"That was a long time ago. Lot has happened since then." Rose smiled and squeezed his hand. "She suggested what I should wear the other day when we visited that planet with the purple trees. And when you were still wobbly from regeneration she told me what kinda tea to make you. I just got this clear picture in m'head. Like a snapshot, you know."

The Doctor knew exactly what his ship could and could not communicate with his companions. She provided translations, immunity to common diseases and responded to requests if they were strong enough. But she absolutely could not make suggestions. He needed to examine her communication circuits at once.

"What's that look for?"

"What?"

"Like you just stumbled upon somethin' you'll have to fix."

"No, no, no. Nothing to fix. Nothing at all. Everything is fine. Dandy. Keen." He grimaced at his last word choice and then his expression softened. "You're really okay with this?"

"I trust you," she said with a small shrug.

"Oh." His eyes went wide as he absorbed the importance of that simple statement.

"This mean you'll be readin' my thoughts?"

"Why? Have something to hide, Rose Tyler?" he teased, bumping her shoulder. "If you were telepathic and we had a complete bond then I could. But still only if you wanted me to. What did you feel before?"

"Umm...Red. And...and...I don't know. Pleasure, I guess," she finished, blushing.

"Right. That was me. _Emoting._ My presence, identity, aura; that's the red."

"You're a bit ginger then," Rose commented, the tip of her tongue darting out at the edge of her grin.

"I suppose I am," the Doctor agreed with a genuine smile.

"And the other part..." She trailed off and then asked tentatively, "That what you were feeling?"

"Ye_p_."

"All right." She nodded to herself and the Doctor was again stunned at her easy acceptance of him. "Anythin' else I should know?"

"No." He paused, eyes drifting to the ceiling as he considered. "Well...no. No. I don't think so. I mean, I haven't exactly compared. No. There shouldn't be."

"You mean you never saw Jack starkers in the hallway?"

"Despite Jack's predilection for being naked, I don't recall ever being in that predicament, no."

"Really? 'Cause I was sure he was doin' it to annoy you."

"He...what? No. He wouldn't." The Doctor grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He would, wouldn't he?" He didn't wait for an answer. "You should know anyway. You put me in those pajamas."


	5. Chapter 5

**Character/Pairing:** Ten/Rose  
**Rating:** MA  
**Disclaimer:** The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.  
**Spoilers:** Through _Girl in the Fireplace_.  
**Author's Notes:** This part has been edited for content. You can read the unedited story on my livejournal. View my profile to get the link!

* * *

Rose took a moment to study her nails. "Um, actually that was Mickey."

"What?" the Doctor exclaimed, pulling his hand from her grasp. "What?!"

"Protectin' my modesty and all that." She nodded as if it was a perfectly acceptable situation. "Very noble of 'im."

"Noble? _Noble?!_" he sputtered, chest heaving. "How...How could you? I can't believe you'd...I mean..._Mickey!_"

Rose bit her lip, but couldn't quite contain the smile that was straining to escape. "Oh, you should see the look on your face." She shook her head. "It wasn't Mickey."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no. It _has_ to be Mickey. The alternative is...well, too horrible to even think about."

Somehow, Rose regained her composure and stated with complete seriousness, "Mum _was_ curious." And just when she thought the Doctor couldn't possibly get any paler, he did. The look of absolute terror on his face compelled her to move and she gently touched his shoulder. "_I_ put you in 'em," she reassured. "But I didn't look. Wasn't a priority with you bein' sick."

"Oh," he whispered, deflating. "If you'd let Mickey, I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive you."

"Really?" She lowered her hand to smooth the fabric of his tie.

"Oh, absolutely."

Rose definitely felt that was a challenge she needed to address.

"What if I did this?" Firmly grasping his tie, she tugged him forward and kissed him hard. The swiftness of the action surprised him and when Rose pulled away, she was pleased to see the color had returned to his cheeks.

"Well..." he started, clearing his throat. "I'd...um...have to take the new evidence under consideration. And I might need more samples. Just to make sure my hypothesis is correct, you understand."

Rose sighed. "I guess if you think it's really necessary..."

Her teasing was cut short as the Doctor pounced with an adeptness she certainly hadn't expected. Suddenly, her back was against the arm of the sofa and the Doctor was poised over her, cradling her head as he kissed her soundly. His other hand had slipped under the edge of her top, fingertips caressing the curve of her waist. Rose gasped at the cool sensation and the Doctor eagerly took advantage, tongue dipping inside to curl around hers. She realized it was quite possible that the Doctor was very proficient at dancing. Eventually he pulled away, keeping her from following with a hand under her chin.

"Rose..." he began, tone serious despite the husky edge to his voice. "If we do this, it changes everything."

"I know," she softly replied.

The Doctor nodded and gave her a shy smile before lowering his hand. "This," he stated, fiddling with the closure of her robe. "This will have to go."

"That all?"

His dark eyes twinkled with mischief as he deftly untied the knot with one hand. "More or less." He sat upright and Rose followed him, wriggling out of the robe. Watching her carefully, the Doctor raised his hands to frame her face. "If it hurts or is at all uncomfortable, tell me and I'll let go. Promise me, Rose. You'll tell me."

"Promise."

The Doctor still looked reluctant but he gave her a brief kiss and brushed his fingers against her temples. "Just imagine a door and...oh."

Before, he had slipped into her mind while she was distracted. It had been an inadvertent action on his part and he'd severed the connection almost as soon as it had started. Now, she opened herself to him without hesitation and the sudden radiance was overwhelming. He'd been without contact for so very long and now all of her thoughts and memories were spread out before him. He could see how deeply she trusted him and how much she l--

He took a very unsteady breath and focused their connection on the present. No need to go wandering off. As he lifted his hands away, Rose swayed forward and he caught her shoulders.

"All right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, sounding just as affected.

He shifted his grip and drew her closer, the proximity sparking between them. She could feel pleasure radiating from every point of contact and they weren't even really dancing yet. The flannel pajamas were becoming increasingly uncomfortable against her flushed skin. The awareness must have been mutual as she felt nimble fingers traveling down her torso, releasing buttons and parting the fabric. Not to be outdone, Rose reached for his tie and began loosening the knot. The brown silk slipped through her fingers, but she got no further as cool hands ventured beneath the flannel.

"Not fair. Distractin' me," she mumbled, finding the task of unfastening buttons exceedingly difficult.

"I have plenty of distractions in mind," he informed her. "And really distractions aren't fair as a rule. Entirely defeat the purpose if they were." He brushed a thumb against her skin and smiled as she shivered in response. "And I have a definite purpose."

Rose was in fact a bit of an expert when it came to creating diversions. She leaned back, just out of his reach, and shrugged out of the pajama top. Tossing it aside, she turned back to find the Doctor's momentary confusion replaced by awe. She heard his breath catch as his eyes slowly traveled up the revealed skin.

"You were sayin'?"

His gaze reached her face and it was her turn to be overwhelmed as she saw the fathomless depths of his eyes. She wondered how long she could wait before simply tackling him.

"All part of my plan," he explained, voice rough despite an attempt to sound indignant. He was in fact having difficulty formulating anything even close to a plan. It was unnerving how fast his control was unraveling. He wanted to savor even the minutest of details. The delicious warmth of her skin, the way her breath wavered whenever he hovered close... He'd never been so completely enraptured with the present. "You're beautiful," he murmured, letting his hand stroke the length of her arm. "So _so_ very beautiful. I know I've said so before, but..."

Whatever he'd been about to say was lost as Rose launched herself at him and they tumbled to the carpet. He watched her with wide eyes as she finally unbuttoned his shirt and lifted it aside. Taking in his lithe upper body, she was immensely thankful that for once he'd not dressed in a ridiculous number of layers.

"Have you been keeping track of my layers then?"

"Been payin' close attention. Just in case I ever had to get you out of them in an emergency." She paused, hands resting just above his hearts. "Hold on. Thought you couldn't read my thoughts."


	6. Chapter 6

**Character/Pairing:** Ten/Rose  
**Rating:** MA  
**Disclaimer:** The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.  
**Spoilers:** Through _Girl in the Fireplace_.  
**Author's Notes:** This part has been edited for content. You can read the unedited story on my livejournal. View my profile to get the link!

* * *

"Just the ones directed at me."

Rose frowned and drew back further. "But I didn't..."

The Doctor followed her, raising himself up on his forearms, preventing her from putting distance between them. He was in fact equally surprised at how well she was broadcasting her thoughts. He hadn't meant to bring it up at all, but he was more than a little distracted and his gob had once again gotten the better of him. It was a capability Rose shouldn't have and paired with her earlier admission of communicating with the TARDIS it was certainly enough to make him worry. But he had no desire to interrupt their rapidly expanding relationship.

"Some of your thoughts are just...well..._loud_."

She wrinkled her nose. "Loud?"

"Not obnoxious or anything," he reassured, lifting a hand to her shoulder blades and brushing fingertips down her spine. "Just...obvious. You can't help it, really. The connection between us is helping you along." He pushed himself up so that he was sitting with Rose astride his lap. He noted that it had been five minutes and thirty-two seconds since they'd last kissed and felt obligated to remedy that immediately.

He kissed her leisurely, tempting her closer. When she leaned into him, he moved away and kissed her temple.

"Can I hear yours then?" she asked softly.

"Oh," he exhaled, turning his head to regard her. "Do you want to?"

"Fair is fair, Doctor," she pointed out. "Unless you don't..."

"I don't mind. But it might be a tad overwhelming for you. I have a considerably larger number of thoughts. Although...they are currently more focused than is normal."

"That so?" she teased.

"Oh, yes."

She hastened to push his shirt over his shoulders. He shook his arms free of the cotton and once unencumbered returned to his previous area of interest. Her skin was so very warm against the flat of his palm, the transfer of heat driving them quickly toward thermal equilibrium. And muddling his control quite effectively in the process.

As his hand strayed further, Rose experienced a jumble of unfamiliar thoughts. Everything collided. She couldn't tell where her thoughts left off and others began. Panicking, she scrunched her eyes shut and tried to escape the mental onslaught with physical movement, only to fall backwards onto the carpet. Rose vaguely registered something pressing firmly against her temple and then everything was calm. She could clearly distinguish the space between thoughts.

He was worried, his concern for her overriding his thoughts of anything else.

"That better? Clearer anyway?" his voice was tinged with anxiety.

Rose took a deep breath and opened her eyes. The Doctor was leaning over her, fingers still pressed to her temple, eyes sweeping frantically over her face. "Yeah."

_Good._

He took his hand away and swallowed hard, moving back so that he was lying beside her.

"Thought you'd done this before," she murmured, rolling onto her side to face him. He was watching her carefully and she realized he was giving her time to adjust. Letting her decide if she wanted to continue what they'd started. She reached out to stroke his sideburn with the back of her hand, hoping the motion would belay the fears that she could feel pulsing from him. His eyes darted to her hand and then back to focus on her face.

"I have, but...not like this."

Despite his blank expression, Rose could sense his reluctance beginning to wane. She leaned in to kiss him softly and his eyes fluttered shut.

_ Never like this._

He was so vulnerable as his thoughts raced almost too fast for her to follow. All of his wonder and all of his fear. Oh, how would he ever be able to let her go?

Rose turned her head and whispered in his ear, "You won't have to. M'not leavin' you."

The Doctor practically jumped upright, balancing awkwardly on his palms as he looked her over with wide eyes. He had obviously not meant for her to catch that particular conclusion. And Rose knew for certain that he didn't believe her declaration either. His thoughts already strayed to tearful goodbyes.

She didn't want him wandering, not when the present was so very important.

"Doctor...stay with me."

As abruptly as his melancholy had appeared, it vanished. He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose.

_ Oh, you're mine now, Rose Tyler._

"Moment you said run," she agreed.

They grinned foolishly at each other until, with a coy tilt of her head, Rose pointed out, "You've still got your trousers on."

The Doctor glanced down and gave the appearance of being shocked that that was indeed the case. "So I do. Bit of an impediment, wouldn't you say?"

"Off."

His eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly higher at the command. "Sorry?"

"Not gettin' any further until you do."

"Right," he nodded, attempting to regain his composure. "Off."

Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward to give her a quick kiss and then stood to fulfill her request. Rose propped herself up on her elbows, watching him from beneath lowered lids as he hastened to discard trousers, pants and finally the mismatched socks. If the Doctor was honest he was considerably proud of this body. Dashing countenance, slim, and great hair, which he imagined amounted to a rather appealing physique even if he wasn't ginger. He couldn't help but smirk as Rose's heated appraisal confirmed what he'd suspected.

He tensed as her hands came to rest against his waist, but either his thoughts were too scattered for her to perceive or he'd gained better control. She doubted the later if his vocal responses were anything to go by.

_Rose...alorien m'nael...maeora..._

The words filtered through her mind untranslated, meaningless circular shapes and sounds, but still Rose recognized them. The Doctor had lapsed into his native tongue. Looking up, she found his head tilted toward the ceiling, chest heaving slightly.

"You all right?"

She could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard, before tipping his head down to look at her. There was a storm brewing in the mirrored darkness of his eyes and he moved quickly, hands grasping her shoulders, urging her to stand. Rose complied and found herself crushed against his body as soon as her feet settled upon the floor. He kissed her with a desperate urgency, tenderness forgone in a rush of desire. She could do little more than cling to his shoulders as he propelled them back into the bookcase.

Rose winced as her head banged into a wooden shelf and she felt a surge of worry and what seemed to be an apology. Immediately, the Doctor's hand cradled the back of her head, moving lightly across the surface, checking the point of impact.

"M'fine," she insisted as he eased back with the briefest of kisses.

He was still breathing hard as he rested his forehead against hers. "Sorry. Got a bit...carried away."

"Yeah...just a bit."

"Sure you're..."

"M'fine." As they paused, she realized something. "Do we need...?"

The Doctor stared at her blankly, searching for an explanation in her thoughts. "Oh. No. No. Not...compatible. Well..."

"Doctor..." Rose insisted, turning her head away as he sought another kiss.

"It's very very _very_ unlikely. Just a smidgen more likely then if I was..." He shook his head, whether to clear it or in negation Rose couldn't tell. "We'd have to be terribly lucky. Or unlucky, really. Can't...wear that sort of thing anyway. Sensitive skin." He glanced at their location. "Promising as it may be...don't think I fancy the bookcase." He slid his hands down her arms and took hold of both of her hands, tugging her away from the wall. "The telepathy...well..."

"M'doin fine so far."

_That you are._

Rose grinned and flashed him a heated look, before flouncing past and sitting on the sofa. "This more to your taste?"

Her flirtatious nerve vanished as the Doctor crossed the room in three quick strides, his lips connecting with hers in a kiss as he guided her back onto the sofa. He broke the kiss with a throaty moan as her fingers skimmed the nape of his neck before tangling in his hair, settling so close to where he wanted them to be.

"Like this?"

She adjusted her grip, palms framing his face, fingers touching a spot just above his ears.

_Oh..._

Rose smiled triumphantly at his reaction, tongue peeking out between her teeth, and the Doctor found himself incapable of not kissing her. A tiny unoccupied portion of his brain fussed that he really shouldn't let her get too cocky, else he'd never get his way ever again. The rest of him firmly argued that he was way too charismatic this time around for that to be a problem. If he still had big ears, well, then he'd be worried.

"Didn't mind the ears," Rose murmured.

The Doctor gaped at her in awe as he felt a deep pulse of affection for his brilliant wonderful amazing girl. He shifted his position, catching her gaze one more time, checking, just in case...

"Yes," she said calmly, flakes of gold sparkling in her wide brown eyes. "Yes."

The connection engulfed them, bridging any remaining gaps and securing the completeness that had always sparked between them. No more questions as their emotions were laid bare.

_Oh, Rose. I don't deserve you._

She moved her hands to his shoulder blades, drawing him closer as she instinctively reached into his mind and pushed the doubt away. His eyes shut as her touch soothed the aching emptiness in his head. And for once everything was fine. Better than fine, really. Burying his head in her shoulder, he babbled melodic syllables against her skin that she couldn't begin to understand.

A flare of shimmering golden light surrounded them, encompassing all they were and ever could be.


	7. Chapter 7

**Character/Pairing:** Ten/Rose  
**Rating:** MA  
**Disclaimer:** The BBC owns all, I am merely borrowing.  
**Spoilers:** Through _Girl in the Fireplace_.

* * *

Slowly, Rose regained her awareness of the present and immediately panicked. Her scattered thoughts couldn't explain what had just happened and why there was something heavy squishing her and making it difficult to breathe properly. Keeping very still, she carefully opened her eyes and found that there was in fact a naked body draped limply across her own. A naked male body. Or at least as far as she could tell from the pale freckled skin in her line of sight.

"Rose..." murmured a gruff yet familiar voice next to her ear.

She stiffened and finally noticed the shock of brown hair in the periphery of her vision. Not just any naked body then. The Doctor. The Doctor_ naked_. The Doctor naked and on top of her in what was definitely a highly compromising position.

_Oh._

"You all right?" the Doctor asked. He still had his head tucked against the side of her neck and she could hear his breathing steadying to a more regular pace.

"Yeah," she replied, relaxing beneath him.

"Good. That's...good." He kissed her temple, brushing a hand across her forehead. The connection that had been so integral to their lovemaking had diminished, fading to a quiet echo. "How's your head?"

She winced. "Hurts."

"Mmmm...Thought it might." He pushed himself up to peer over the arm of the sofa and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. The door's back."

He gently disentangled their limbs, kissing her sweetly before standing. Rose watched him with trepidation as he hurried to don his shirt and pants.

"Don't want to startle Mickey," he explained, winking as he secured just two buttons. "I'll be right back."

Rose sincerely hoped Mickey had turned in early. A shirt that unbuttoned coupled with the significant lack of trousers was going to be more than enough to make him suspicious. But before she could recommend trousers at least, the Doctor had dashed out the door.

In his absence, Rose noticed that the fire had diminished and the room was rapidly cooling. She wondered if that too had been a part of the TARDIS' plan to heat things up. She gingerly rose from the couch and sought the top to her pajamas and her knickers. She retrieved them from opposite corners of the room and sat back on the sofa.

The Doctor returned just as she finished buttoning her top, holding a glass of water in one hand and a small red capsule in the other.

"Take this."

She took the dosage, watching the Doctor over the rim of the glass as she swallowed. He appeared to be studying the floor, which was not a good sign considering what they'd just shared.

"Can't say I much fancy dozing on this carpet."

"What?"

"It's rather plush, but can you just imagine what the static will do to my hair?"

Rose blinked and then looked up at the hair in question, finding that it had in fact achieved a new standard in gravity defiance. She felt a surge of pride at finally being the cause of the disheveled strands. "Never know. Might be an improvement."

"Oi!" The Doctor pouted and self-consciously ran his hands through his hair, which only served to make it even messier.

"You don't hafta stay w'me. And sleep," Rose murmured, studying the condensation on the glass.

"I want to." He shifted and rested a hand on the back of his neck. "And...I'm more than a little knackered myself."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Oh, absolutely. You were a complete drain on my energy resources. Even more so then when you wander off."

"Glad to be of service." She grinned, her heart leaping at his admission.

"Come on. Up you get!"

She let him help her to her feet, but resisted as he began to pull her towards the door. "Wait. I should finish gettin' dressed."

"No need." The Doctor gestured at the doorway, leaning so she could see past him. "Well, unless you want to."

She squinted at what lay beyond the doorway. Definitely a bedroom of some kind. "Not the hallway."

"No_p_e."

"What if Mickey comes in here and finds..." She pointed at the clothing scattered across the carpet.

"That room's just for us," the Doctor stated firmly, ushering her out of the study and into the bedroom.

"Oh." She stumbled after him. "This..."

"My room. That all right?"

"Yeah," she said, eyes wandering around the room.

Despite how long Rose had been traveling with the Doctor, she'd never actually seen his room. She'd certainly wondered for awhile whether he had one at all.

The walls of his room had a slight metallic sheen that reminded her of the console room. While her room had several windows with views that changed depending on her mood, his room had instead a pair of french doors that seemed to lead to a balcony. Beyond she could see a dark sky filled with stars. The door on his wardrobe was slightly ajar and she observed hints of several dress shirts. There was a secretariat desk with an open jar of marmalade and several books scattered across the open leaf. Obviously he spent more time seated there than in the perfectly arranged burgundy sheets of his bed. She tried to imagine his previous self inhabiting this bedroom and wondered if perhaps he'd changed rooms.

"It was a little different before," the Doctor explained. "Not much." Startled that he'd answered an unspoken question, he let go of her hand. "Of course I'm not usually in here that often. That's what happens when you've got an infinite number of rooms to choose from and you don't need to sleep. Much. You're far more likely to find me in the console room or the kitchen, the library on occasion, even that room with the apple grass. And...and the study as you've discovered. Of course you already knew all that and you really don't like my hair?"

She decided to let him wonder. "You've got a balcony."

"Not really. An approximation of one. Used to always look out on..." he trailed off and his face clouded over for a second before he could conceal it. "Sun! Lots of sun. Blue sky. And clouds. Fluffy ones. Nice pleasant views. Wellll...mostly. Storms when the TARDIS is upset with me. She even did a hurricane once."

"What did you do?"

He shrugged, but didn't provide any details. "Didn't turn out nearly as bad as the monsoon. Everything was damp for an entire month and she wouldn't let me use another room."

"Poor you," Rose murmured, reaching to unbutton his shirt.

"Yes, quite," he agreed, leaning in to her touch and helping to discard the shirt. "But...she's bound to be pleased for a while now."

"Why's that?"

"Us," he explained with a smile, twining his fingers with hers and pulling her toward the bed.

She followed willingly and they were soon curled against each other beneath the burgundy sheets. The Doctor brushed his fingertips along her spine, up and down, until she relaxed against him and her breathing changed to a steady rhythm. He watched her in awe as she slept peacefully beside him. He'd never thought, never let himself even consider that this could be a possibility. And now it was more than that. A lot more. Smiling, he drew her closer and let his own eyes shut as he too accepted the embrace of dreams.


End file.
